Carry On
by romywritergirl
Summary: Alex told them he didn't like flying.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The characters and universe belong to Marvel.**

Alex drummed his fingers on the arm rest. After five minutes, he started tapping his foot. After ten minutes, Erik was about ready to restrain his limbs with metal objects.

The Professor glanced over at where they were sitting and said, "Alex, why don't you take a walk around the plane if you're feeling restless? We're up quite high enough now that it would be fine."

The teenager seemed to blanch more at the suggestion, if that was even possible considering how pale he had been since boarding the flight.

"No one said this freak school included flying," he responded through gritted teeth.

"And here we thought Havoc was so tough," Sean teased, "What, prison didn't have a crash course on overcoming the fear of flying?"

Raven laughed and Alex glared at her before asking, "Aren't you just here for the onboard entertainment?"

"That's enough," Erik said sharply, "Be still and look out the window."

Everyone but Alex resumed casual silence as they looked out the windows; he broke into a slight sweat.

Raven traded seats with Charles after the first half hour for the copilot seat next to Hank.

"I almost feel bad for him," she said, leaning back to look at the plasma shooter, whose knuckles were now white from his grip around the harness, "And then he opens his mouth and I feel like he deserves at least a small part of this."

"What's his issue with flying anyway?" Hank asked, and Raven shrugged, responding, "Who knows if you could even get a straight answer out of him."

After a particularly vulgar string of profanities came out of Alex's mouth in response to a joke made by Sean, Erik stood up out of his seat and went to sit across from the blonde teenager. Alex gulped but attempted to look unfazed.

The jet flew through a particularly rough patch of turbulence, and Alex threw his harness off, stood up, and started unsteadily walking towards the back of the plane.

 _"Alex_ ," Charles asked telepathically, " _May I ask what you are doing?"_

 _"Let me off,"_ he responded, " _Now."_

Charles sent a prodding look to Erik, who stood up and followed him to the back of the jet.

Erik found him leaning over the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach into it. After a minute of hesitation, he put his hand over his back and rubbed small circles into it.

Alex whirled around and snarled, "Don't touch me."

Erik raised an eyebrow and countered, "Don't take that tone with me."

"Stay out of my face, Erik," he demanded, shoving him away as he spoke. Erik caught the swinging arm and used the force to propel him until he was standing against the wall, one arm twisted behind his back, kept in place as the plane shifted.

Alex was breathing heavily and Erik didn't need any sort of enhanced senses to be able to tell that his heart was pounding out of his chest.

"You don't like flying," Erik stated, holding him in place, "I understand. But that does not give you license to lash out at everyone who is trying to help you."

Alex twisted his head around to make eye contact and Erik noted the desperation hidden behind his eyes. As briefly as the emotion flashed, it was gone and replaced with steely determination as he started struggling to free himself from the hold.

"You don't understand," he growled, "and you never will, so just let me go, you cretin."

"Big words coming from a little boy," Erik commented.

"I hate you," Alex spat and a brief flash of hurt crossed the elder's face before he responded, "You don't have to like us. You just have to obey us."

"Obey?" Alex mocked, "What is this? The 50's? You're not my father."

"Clearly," Erik responded, "because if I was this behavior would have never been tolerated."

Charles' voice rang through both of their heads as he announced the impending descent of the plane. Erik's grip didn't loosen.

"Are you ready to play nicely with the other children?" he asked, and Alex glowered.

Erik took a deep breathe before responding to Charles, " _I think the only way to get him back to Westchester in one piece is some serious sedation or a rental car."_

Charles chuckled before responding, " _I've already contacted the company, brother. You can have fun driving him home from Iowa."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The characters and the universe belong to Marvel.**

"Let me see," Erik stated, glancing over at the young charge in the passenger seat. His right arm dangled out the window, but he held his left hand against his chest protectively.

"I'm fine," Alex muttered, not turning his head.

"That's not what Hank said," Erik challenged, as he switched lanes.

"Leave it to Bozo," the teenager grunted under his breath.

Erik cast him a sharp look, "If only your attitude had been damaged instead of your hand."

Alex leaned over to the car stereo and very pointedly used his left hand to turn the music up, attempting to shield the look of pain on his face. Erik sent his gaze heavenward and briefly contemplated asking someone or something above for patience so he didn't bring physical harm to the youth during the next sixteen hours of the drive back to Westchester.

"Are you hungry?" he asked instead.

Alex shrugged, and Erik took that as his cue to get off the exit. As they drove through downtown Chicago, Alex looked more and more uncomfortable and started shifting lower and lower in his seat. As Erik pulled over at a pizza parlor, the teenager glanced around the locality.

Erik chose not to comment and simply parked the car before getting out. Alex slowly opened the door before following him into the restaurant.

The waitress sat them in a booth by the window. After they gave their order, Erik asked, "Have you been to Chicago before?"

"You could say that," he responded.

A group of teenagers entered through the back door and seated themselves in the large corner booth. Alex dipped his head as they walked in.

Gritting his teeth he said, "I need to borrow your hat."

Erik raised his eyebrow, especially after listening to his fifteen minute tirade on the fedora during the ride from Iowa to Illinois, but lifted the vessel off his head and placed it in the center of the table. Alex snatched it and put it on, pulling it down to shield the front of his face in shadow.

The metal wielder nodded his head in the direction of the gang of teens and commented, "I presume you have a history with them."

"Former lives and all," Alex said, mirroring a comment the man himself had said when asked about his pre-submarine-sinking past.

A dark haired girl glanced over in their direction before whipping her head back around at Alex's figure. He bent his head lower and Erik noticed the drumming fingers started back up. She leaned over to whisper something into the ear of the lighter haired girl sitting next to her and her eyes immediately shot up, locking onto Alex's for a full minute. She averted her gaze, refusing to make eye contact with him for the rest of the meal.

While Erik paid the bill and Alex slunk out the front door to the car, the blonde haired girl followed him out, calling something to the group about putting money in the meter.

Alex unlocked the passenger door and attempted to open it, only to discover a force holding it shut. He turned slightly to see the girl three feet away from him, arms crossed over her chest.

"I would have never recognized you, using keys and all to open a car. Didn't think that was your style," she commented, tilting her head slightly to the side.

Erik stepped out of the parlor, but kept his distance, hovering near the entrance.

The girl glanced back at him, and then at Alex who still had his hand positioned over the door handle. She flicked her hand and the car door unlocked as she walked back towards the parlor, turning the dial on the meter several feet away in front of a yellow Jeep.

"Lila," Alex called so softly she almost missed it, "Be careful."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, stopping only momentarily to say, "Someone had to take your place." Then she was gone, already back inside the building as quickly as she had come out.

When they were in the car on their way out of Chicago, Erik commented, "There was nothing on your foster records about you living in Chicago." Alex grunted. Erik continued, "But this is where you were arrested."

"I thought Charles said those records were sealed," the youth replied defensively.

Erik regarded him evenly, "Westchester isn't like Chicago."

Alex snorted, responding, "As if it takes much to see that."

"There's an entire mansion of people to keep an eye on you in Westchester," Erik continued, "And grand theft auto won't be tolerated."

"I didn't get arrested for grand theft auto," Alex interjected, "I thought you said you read my file."

"That was your old crew. The boys on the left were all street racers and so was the dark haired girl. The blonde girl - Lila - she jacks the cars, and the red head she was sitting next to has the chop shop, probably owned by a brother or an uncle. Just because you never got arrested with them, doesn't mean you wouldn't have eventually," Erik detailed.

Alex's jaw dropped - just a little - before defending, "Lila doesn't jack them. That's not her thing. She just makes them… more available."

"Was that your talent?" Erik queried, glancing at his passenger.

Alex fidgeted, taking the fedora off and twisting it back and forth between his fingers. He dropped it on the dashboard and looked out the window.

Erik remained silent, flipping through the stations until he found soft jazz.

Alex turned around quizzically, and Erik raised an eyebrow. The younger one snorted and responded to Erik's nonverbal question with, "I just would have pegged you for a heavy metal guy."

Erik hid the small smile that developed.

"I came here when I was seventeen," Alex offered fifteen minutes later, refusing to make eye contact, fingers tapping once again, "Lila had a cousin that said he had work for us. It seemed like a better option than picking pockets in Central Park, so we hitchhiked to Chicago."

"Nobody looked for you?" Erik asked.

"That would require there being someone who cared enough to look," Alex replied.

"I can't speak for two years ago, but just know if you were to follow through on your silly plans of disappearing into one of Westchester's dark nights, there would be a horde of people to follow," Erik assured with a knowing glance, adding after a few seconds, "And simultaneously kick your butt."

"Yeah, going up against a telepath and crazy metal wielding dude isn't exactly highest on my list of death inviting priorities," Alex commented with a smirk, kicking his feet up on the dashboard, and flipping around the radio stations.

"What is this nonsense?" Erik asked after passing a jeep full of girls singing loudly along to the same song.

"It's the Beach Boys, Erik," Alex responded with an eye roll, "Keep up."


	3. Chapter 3

Erik looked up at his young charge from the corner of the hotel room, where he stood using the telephone.

"Yes, Charles, he's alive and well," he responded dryly, continuing, "Somewhere in Ohio. The rental car company said they will have a replacement for us first thing in the morning. Yes… absolutely… Yes. Tell Sean I expect his essay on my desk tomorrow at 9 AM whether I'm home or not. Good night."

By the time he hung up the telephone, the clock screamed 1:00 in the morning. After driving all day, the man collapsed onto the bed near the door.

"Are they going to survive holding down the fort?" Alex asked from where he lay in bed across the room.

"Time will only tell," Erik responded humorously.

Alex rolled over on his side to face the wall as Erik flipped the lights off with his powers.

Five minutes later, the youth started, "Erik?"

"Hm?" the man responded, not yet able to succumb to the fatigue that was pulling at him.

"Thanks," Alex continued, "for driving me back, I mean. I know it's not convenient and then with that deer running into us— I know you probably have better things you wanted to do with the past two days than driving me from Iowa to Westchester."

"Alexander," the man responded, "I will be the judge of what is deserving of my time, thank you."

"And about what I said— I don't hate you. I shouldn't have said- I didn't mean it," the youth continued, staring up at the blankness of the ceiling.

"That's good to hear," Erik replied, "and you might be surprised."

"Surprised by what?" the younger mutant asked.

"About what Charles and I are able to understand about trauma and loss," the metal wielder remarked, reflecting on the conversation Alex was referring to.

His statement was met with no response, and for a few minutes, Erik wondered if all the excitement of the past few days had caught up with the teenager and he had fallen asleep.

"I'm not ready," Alex admitted finally, "But when I am…"

"You can come find me day or night," the elder mutant responded, "You don't have to face your demons alone, Alex. Trust me, it's far more preferable to battle them when you have support."

"This coming from the man that attempted to lift a submarine out of the water solo," Alex quipped, the side of his lip curling up.

"And where did that get me?" Erik responded seriously, "Despite what I believed then, my demise would not have been to my benefit, or any of yours. We have a responsibility to each other now, Alex; a responsibility to those of our kind. Something Charles helped me see is that we cannot fulfill those responsibilities from the grave."

"That's easy to say when your entire existence isn't a warpath of destruction," Alex mumbled with a scowl.

Erik's raised eyebrow was practically palpable in the darkness.

"Did you forget to whom you were speaking?" he asked, "An entire decade of my life was devoted to tracking down and destroying Nazi sympathizers. I wasn't wielding metal to make chandeliers, Alex. My existence before this team was quite the 'warpath of destruction.'"

Alex verbalized no response so Erik continued, "You can try to put up walls to separate yourself; convince yourself that no one can possibly understand your plight, that you are alone in your suffering. I understand that you don't particularly want to talk about it, as if not saying the words out loud make their reality a little less, but it only works for so long before what haunts you in the dark begins to haunt you in the light."

"Thankfully I can just set everything on fire and watch it burn," Alex responded, attempting to utilize humor in order to shield the fact that his voice was thick with emotion.

"If I could take your pain away, I would," Erik stated sincerely, "But that is not my gift. I can only teach you how to channel that anger and pain into a purpose."

Alex shifted, that sentiment calming his inner storm enough for him to drift into sleep.

—-

"Come on, Erik," the teenager pleaded, "We got into a crash when _you_ were driving. Just let me drive for like an hour."

"With your history with cars?" Erik replied, appraising the boy with a raised eyebrow.

"Past is in the past. If anything, that's a reason you should let me drive. You know I can handle it," the blonde youth responded, "I once evaded twelve cops in the middle of New York City for an hour and then disappeared."

"So what you're saying is that there's probably numerous warrants out for your immediate arrest?" Erik retorted, still not handing over the keys as he looked dubiously from the rental car in the motel parking lot to the young man standing next to him.

"Live a little, Erik. Who knows how long you have left, you're practically ancient…" Alex jested, reaching for the keys.

They moved out of his grasp, suspended in the air by the elder's mutation.

"Not a mile over the speed limit," the man warned, floating the keys over to him.

Alex snatched them and simultaneously pumped his fist into the air, causing Erik to gaze heavenward before settling into the passenger seat.

Three hours later, he thought of something.

"You do have your license, right?" Erik asked, glancing over at the driver, "Not just that fake identification card I confiscated last month."

"Please, you really think I would have been cool with Sean getting his license if I didn't have mine?" The nineteen year old traded back with a mild eye roll, "I've had my license since the day I turned sixteen, and I've been driving for longer than that."

"They let children who can barely sit still to do their schoolwork operate three thousand pound machinery traveling at 60 miles per hour," Erik stated, shaking his head.

"Please, a car is nothing. I was ten and I could fly a plane," Alex remarked offhandedly.

"You have the mechanical mind and quick instincts that elude many of your generation," Erik commented.

"Plus my dad taught me stuff," Alex responded as he shifted lanes, not taking his eyes off of the road.

"Hm," Erik responded, leaving the topic open to the boy if he wanted to continue, "Hank can always use a copilot."

Alex grunted before responding under his breath, "The last time I was someone's copilot the plane crashed and everyone died, so no thanks."

Erik sat silently, stunned between the boy's forthrightness and the amount of guilt he still seemed to carry over it.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Alex. That is a tragedy no man should have to face, let alone a child," the metal wielder continued.

Alex didn't respond and Erik noticed the speedometer crept a little higher than it had been.

"It wasn't your fault," the elder man stated firmly, "Regardless of whatever guilt and anger you hold, it was not your fault."

The blonde youth swallowed and turned his head to the side briefly, swiping away a sole tear that slid down his cheek.

"Sure doesn't feel that way," he responded, glancing down at the speedometer as well and adjusting the speed back to the posted limit.

Erik didn't speak for two miles but when he did, his voice carried his own pain as well.

"I was only a boy when my mother was taken from me, right in front of my eyes. I carried the guilt that I was unable to save her; the guilt that I survived instead of her for years," Erik spoke softly.

"How did you get rid of it?" Alex asked, glancing over at Erik from where they were stopped at a red light.

Erik's lip turned up with a small smile as he returned eye contact, and he replied, "Charles helped me find memories of a happier time, and helped me to truly feel those emotions I had locked away in search of vengeance… and we found all of you children to guide and mentor."

"…so what you're saying is I should go make some mini-Alex's?" the teenager quipped with a smirk.

Erik shot him a disapproving stare.

"Right," Alex responded, "…I understand what you mean though, Erik. I think I just forgot what it felt like to have a purpose again. Even if it's just terrorizing Hank."

"If you keep terrorizing Hank, you're going to have a new purpose - 5 AM training sessions with me," Erik replied, returning the youth's smirk.

"Make it 7 AM and I actually might take you up on that," Alex commented, glancing over at the man to his right, "Maybe channel a little anger into a purpose."

"I welcome it," Erik said in response, before uttering a short laugh and continuing, "Though I pity the fate of the new mannequins."


	4. Chapter 4

Screams echoing through the hallway of the mansion in the middle of the night drew all the inhabitants from their rooms.

Sean stood bleary eyed in the hallway, running a hand through his copper strands. "What's going on?" he asked.

Charles and Erik made tracks for the only room left with a closed door, opening it gently but quickly as they entered.

"Alex," Erik said softly, moving swiftly to the bedside of the one who tossed and turned, tangled in a mess of blankets. "Alex," he repeated, gently touching the top of his arm, "You're safe. It's okay."

Charles touched his temple as he tried to combat the boy's demons from within. With a wince, he opened his eyes a few minutes later. Squatting down, he peered into the youthful eyes of the one who had woken up confused and disorientated.

"Are you alright, lad?" the telepath asked gently.

Alex scrubbed at his face with his hand.

"I'm fine," he said, turning to look at the clock beside the bed, "It's three in the morning. You guys should go back to sleep."

The elder mutants shared a glance between them and Charles placed a hand on the boy's bicep.

"All right, I'm off to sleep. Call if you need anything. Sleep well," he bid as he took his leave.

As he reached for the door handle, he paused as Alex mumbled, "Thanks." The Professor offered a smile in return before exiting the room.

"I'm fine, Erik," the youth began, "Really. You can go back to sleep."

The man looked at the troubled face in front of him as he asked cautiously, "Do you want to talk about what upset you so much?"

"Not particularly," Alex returned, rolling on his side with his back facing the man, "I just want to go back to sleep."

Not entirely convinced of the teenager's wellbeing, Erik slowly conceding to his wishes.

"If you need anything…" he began, slowly trailing off at the youth's seemingly indifferent attitude. He rose, concluding the statement with, "Don't hesitate to come find me."

Alex gave the slightest nod of his head and Erik stood, although not at ease with the situation. He found all the inhabitants of the mansion, with the exception of Charles, standing outside the door. He closed it gently before regarding the rest of them with, "He's fine. It was just a nightmare."

Sean turned to leave, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes blearily. Hank and Raven followed him down the long hallway towards their rooms.

Erik stopped the sole female with a simple, "Raven." She stopped, turning to look at him, and he said, "No teasing him about this tomorrow."

Her lower lip curled up in a pout and he raised an eyebrow.

"I'm serious," he continued, "None of you are to bring this up unless he choses to. Are we clear?"

The three younger mutants nodded, and Erik replied with a simple, "Good."

Everyone returned to their respective rooms, and he performed a final security check around the inside and perimeter of the property before returning to his room.

An hour later, he was stirred from his sleep by the sounds of creaking floorboards. He glanced at his clock and registering the early hour, knew there was only one youth who would be awake at such a time. Getting out of bed, he stopped only long enough to put a shirt on before continuing out of the room and down the stairs.

He found the missing teenager exactly where he predicted, unsurprisingly attacking the lone punching bag in the gym with fervor.

The metal wielder jerked the bag to a stop, and Alex stopped himself mid lunge before he landed face first on the floor.

"What happened to wearing gloves?" Erik asked and Alex glanced towards the discarded items on the floor.

He merely responded with a shrug and Erik gestured for him to reveal his hands. After further inspection, he decided that they were not damaged enough to warrant waking up their resident doctor, just a little bruised.

Upon release, Alex slid down to the mat, resting his head against the wall.

"What's going on, Alex?" Erik asked, pressing further, "You've been on edge since shortly after we got home."

The youth closed his eyes and took a few minutes before responding.

"Every time I close my eyes, I see it replaying itself over and over again," he mumbled.

Erik remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

Alex dipped his head and continued softly, "I feel the flames and smell the smoke and watch us plummeting out of the sky. Every single time I feel that near heart attack I felt when we were about fifteen-seconds away from death and I couldn't find the cord. And then, as soon as I find it, I let myself believe that maybe everything will be okay. Maybe our parents will find the other parachutes, maybe we'll all be okay. And then I look up as the plane becomes engulfed in flames and hits the ground. No way anyone could survive that."

"Alex," Erik said gently, touching his shoulder in support.

" And then I wake up in that hospital bed and hear them say that I was the only survivor, the lucky one," he rasped, "The lucky one? There's nothing lucky about having memories that are nightmares when you're not even asleep. It shouldn't have been me. If only one of us was going to survive, it shouldn't have been me. It should have been Scottie or Mom or anyone else… I didn't deserve to live while they all died."

Erik took the words in stride, putting an arm around his thin frame and pulling him in close to himself. Alex rested his head on the man's shoulder, shaking from the emotional outburst.

Erik rubbed his back in an attempt to calm him, allowing a few minutes to pass before responding, "I know it's hard to understand why you were the only one who survived. There's truly no reason for it. It was a horrible tragedy that you didn't have control over. But your parents took control over the one decision they had left - they loved you so much and they knew what they were doing when they gave you that parachute. I can bet if given the chance it would be a decision they made over and over again, because you're still here now. Nothing you do can change what happened that night, but you get the privilege to grow up to be the man that they would be proud of."

Alex chuckled dryly, replying, "Yeah, I've done that so well. Stolen cars, held up a convenience store, went to prison, got Darwin killed. Great track record. I'm sure they would be delighted to know what they wasted their parachute on."

Erik looked at him sharply.

"Darwin was murdered by a sociopath. That was taken out of your control, and you cannot hold yourself responsible for that, especially not when your intentions were to protect Angel," he stated seriously.

Alex struck the ground with his fist.

"Maybe I'm tired of all of these things being taken out of my control. We're mutants. We could level this whole building without much effort. Aren't we supposed to be taking control? Otherwise, what's the point of having this curse?" he argued heatedly, standing up as he did so, letting his fist glow red for a split second before absorbing the plasma beams back into himself.

"We can start by taking control of our actions," Erik stated, standing as he spoke, brushing his clothes off as he did, adding pointedly, "Including not bottling up our feelings to a point where our anger is brimming at the surface."

Alex ran a hand through his hair.

"I guess I need to find somewhere else to channel it," he said, leaning wearily against the older mutant, "But please don't suggest a 5 AM training session because it's 5 AM right now and I never thought I would be awake at a time of day where there is a potential for seeing the sun rise."

Erik's lip curled up in a smirk as he led the youth towards the staircase.

"I think you could benefit from a training session first thing in the morning," he commented, allowing Alex to groan before adding, "However, by the time we go to sleep, first time in the morning will be about noon."

The youth laughed as he leaned against the door to his room.

"Night Erik," he said, opening his door, "Let's take a break from my feelings and schedule world domination for tomorrow night."

Erik merely hid a snicker as he walked down the hallway to his own room.


	5. Mutant and Proud

The blonde girl slid onto the bench next to her housemate, dropping her bag of books on the floor as she did so.

"Why did we sign up for this?" she groaned, "I'm a trust fund girl. What do I need with an education?"

He glanced over at her, frustrated frown embedded in his face from two hours of trying to make sense of the advanced arithmetic.

"If this is just general studies, I'm never going to be able to declare a major," he said, pushing the stack of papers to the side, "I'm probably not even going to make it through this semester."

Raven peered at the detailed formulations inside the book, before continuing, "Yeah… that's Greek to me. You should ask Erik, he can do this stuff in his head."

"I barely finished high school," Alex stated, rubbing his hand over his face, "The last thing I want is to prove to Erik that I'm too stupid to make it through the first semester of college."

Raven rolled her eyes slowly, smacking the younger blonde on the shoulder, "You know that he would get on you for calling yourself stupid, and second, the only way you would be acting stupid is if you were too proud to ask for help when you needed it."

"Rae, we live in a house with a professor, a twenty-three year old doctor, and Erik, who somehow between the Holocaust and eliminating Neonazi's has more degrees than I can count… and I can barely make it through the easiest arithmetic class this school has to offer," Alex summarized, slamming the book shut and standing up, "What's the point in even trying? I'm never going to amount to anything anyway. People are always going to look at me as the same felon; degree or not doesn't really matter."

She stood up, challenging his body language with her own, and took a step closer to him before beginning, "The only person that still looks at you as a felon is yourself. Stop making this about how everyone else views you and start changing the way you view yourself, Alex. You'll never get through the next four years with that kind of negativity."

He stood in shock for a second, before abruptly turning on his heel and walking away.

"Where are you going?" she called after him, "We have Psychology in five minutes."

He kept walking and she stood there watching him, calling his name one last time before walking to class alone.

Hours later, well after midnight, he walked up the steps to the mansion slowly, dragging his book bag with him as he went. He stood outside the front door for near five minutes before slowly turning the handle. Silently hoping the house would be dark and everyone asleep, he cringed a little at seeing the foyer lit with a lamp, just enough to illuminate the two older men sitting playing chess.

Erik held his eye as he slowly walked down the foyer hallway. Charles spoke first, standing as he spoke sternly, "Alexander we were all quite concerned about you. It is completely unacceptable to just walk off campus, missing two classes at that, without letting anyone know where you are going. I expect you to apologize to your professors tomorrow, as well as find out what work you missed so you can make it up this weekend."

"I'm not going back," he said, "so it really won't be a problem."

Charles had been heading out of the room, leaving the young charge for Erik to speak to, but he stopped briskly at that, turning around, a sharp look flashing in his eye Alex was quite unaccustomed to.

"What do you mean you aren't going back?" the English man questioned slowly, as if in disbelieving he had heard the words correctly.

"I'm not cut out for college, Charles. I'm not like the rest of you. I can steal a car without blinking, but I can't figure out how to do a stupid math problem," he said, dropping his bag against the floor as he spoke.

"You had large gaps in your education, Alexander," Charles spoke plainly, "You missed some basic and fundamental concepts in subjects such as arithmetic, from the transition to foster care and then when you were finishing your diploma in prison. It will take some time to catch up, of course, but that doesn't mean that you should give up. It means you will be as successful as anyone else with a little more effort. But this nonsense about dropping out… Absolutely not. You are smart and you have endless potential and you are delirious if you think anyone here will accept anything less than your best."

Alex stilled, slightly overwhelmed by the amount of passion and emotion the man had placed in his words and finding it hard to accept the blind faith the man had in him. He hadn't realized he was speaking until Erik spoke, rising from his chair as well, "It is not blind faith. We have every reason to have faith in you."

Alex started backtracking towards the door, tripping over his fallen book bag a little as he did so.

"No," Erik stated, gripping his upper arm, "You don't get to run away every time you feel an emotion you don't know how to deal with. That's what we have words for, you can learn to use them."

Alex stared up at the man, pushing back everything he felt, tabling memories of his foster father looming over him screaming and throwing beer bottles when he brought home failing grades. He pushed away the feelings of inferiority when he had met up with a childhood friend who excitedly detailed his early acceptance to Harvard, while Alex was struggling to just get by in Chicago. He kept pushing memories away until one came up of his dad, parading him around the house on his shoulders as Alex had carried his report card of A's and B's around the house, about how they had celebrated with his Mom and Scott with burgers at his favorite restaurant and chocolate milkshakes after. He was about to push that memory away, but let it drift up to the surface.

He felt everything he had kept locked up all at once. Closing his eyes, he shuddered as the memories flashed through him.

Taking a deep, shaky breath he said, "I have a test tomorrow and I don't know how to use most of the formulas."

Erik glanced at the clock.

"I think we have time enough tonight to tackle that," the metal wielder stated, tacking on, "We might have had more adequate time to prepare you if you had returned after class, or even, say… before curfew."

Alex glanced up sheepishly from the couch he had chosen to recline on.

"I didn't think anyone would notice…" he threw out, trying it as an excuse.

"Yes, because you live with the most unobservant of guardians," Erik replied, keeping the sarcasm at bay as much as he could.

"I'm not used to it," Alex said, opening the book to the place he had left off.

Erik raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue, so the youth said with a shrug, "Having people who care."

"You don't have to be used to it," Erik said, "You just have to accept that is the way it is from now on."

Alex responded with a nod, dipping his head to dig through his bag and pull out the papers with the necessary information for his test tomorrow.

He sorted through a few before passing two pages to Erik. He stood here, rubbing the back of his neck while Erik glanced over them.

"Those are the ones I don't understand the most, I guess," he said, as Erik reached his hand out for the stack of papers the youth held.

"I think we can catch you up tonight," Erik began, "At least enough for your test."

The next morning, Alex snatched the keys off the hook before Raven, and she shrugged.

"Fine, if you're actually planning on going to the campus," she relinquished.

In the car, Raven reached over to turn the radio on, turning it up at the familiar Beatles song.

"You feel ready for this test?" Raven asked, treading lightly at she glanced at the blond beside her.

Alex shrugged and responded with, "As ready as I have a chance at being, I guess. Erik spent like three hours trying to teach me everything."

Raven glanced at him from the side, an eyebrow raised.

"And?" she questioned.

"And what?" he responded, one hand lazily hanging off the steering wheel.

"How did it feel asking for help?" she asked, looking down at her painted nails, and picking at the corner of her slightly chipped index finger. "Did the world implode within thirty seconds of you letting go of your pride?"

He sent a glare her way, but she ignored it with a small smirk.

Five minutes later, as they were pulling into the university parking lot, he responded, "It was fine. Erik is crazy smart but somehow what he was saying actually made a lot more sense than the drones that teach here."

The edge of her lip curled up into a half smile, before she reached down for her bag. Sitting back up, she placed her left hand on top of his right for a moment.

"You know that he's going to be proud of you as long as you try your best," she said softly, before flipping her hair over her shoulder and reaching for the door handle.

Alex paused before opening his own door. Raven stood expectantly to the side of his door, waiting for him to get out.

He finally did, and she looped her arm through his.

"Let's go destroy this education system," he said, tugging the heavy bag onto his back.

Raven grinned.

"We started the minute we walked onto this campus. Just don't tell Charles," she responded, "Who knows, maybe we'll be the first mutants to graduate from Westchester University."

"Mutant and proud," he muttered as his left hand glowed for half a second.

Her yellow eyes flashed at him just as quickly.

"Mutant and proud."


	6. Chapter 6

Alex leaned against the brick wall of the alley, catching his breath. Sweat pooled on his forehead and drips of blood dripped down from various cuts on his face. He wiped his face with his sleeve and winced when the fabric came into contact with the bruised skin.

Shouts and pounding footsteps continued getting closer and he knew he had to move soon or risk facing his attackers for a second round. Considering there were four of them and he was pretty sure he already had a few cracked ribs and a sprained ankle, he knew his only way out would involve using his powers.

He looked around his surroundings briefly, he was mostly hidden by the side of a dumpster, overflowing with trash and appearing to be the home to a good portion of the rat population of the city. He was situated in a narrow alley, with a few wooden pallets laying against the side of the opposite wall. And finally, at the end of the alley was a six foot chain link fence that led into a junkyard with a constant patrol of three dobermans.

He glanced at the overcast sky and felt the first of many raindrops pour down on him.

Just great, he thought. A simple trip to listen to a guest lecture at NYU had led to a series of unfortunate events that had led him to be laying low with rats that were increasingly staring him down with their yellow eyes. 

"Check down that alley," he heard one of them scream, and another one "Find him!" was all he understood with his limited knowledge of Russian.

He took a deep breath, and used the wall to slide to a standing position. Why he couldn't have gotten invisibility or telepathy for a power, he didn't know.

Two men ran towards his hiding spot, weapons in hand, and he muttered a prayer, hoping someone was listening, and that they would send the master of magnetism his way.

As the men approached, he took another deep breath, and before thinking about it anymore, plasma blasted the weapons out of their hands. They looked at him, a mixture of outrage and horror painted across their faces. His hands still were glowing red and they looked at their melted weapons on the ground before taking a few steps backward and backtracking out of the alley.

More men came running, guns aimed, and they ended up the same way; melted on the ground, this time their arms a little more singed and they screamed in pain.

He took this opportunity to run, ignoring the sharp pain radiating from his ankle all the way up his leg. He ran towards the fleeing men, the only exit between the warehouses he had been cornered in. He was almost back to the main road when he froze.

A tall man with salt and pepper hair stood in front of him, two guards on either side of him.

"My my, Alexander. All this trouble you've caused us," he stated, shaking his head and taking a step forward.

Alex resisted the urge to take multiple steps backwards, instead he grit his teeth and responded, "It's just Alex. And I wouldn't have had to send so many of your men to the hospital if you hadn't cornered me."

"I'm just collecting past debts," the man responded, with a hard smile, "And I believe you owe me quiet a sum."

"I never worked for you," the blonde haired boy spat out.

The older man shrugged, "Your partner did. And he skipped town with my money. So you're going to pay."

"I'm afraid I've retired from the business," Alex responded, taking a step back this time, "So you can have the $5 bill in my wallet, but you'll be hard pressed to find anything more than that."

"Oh, don't worry," the man responded, "This isn't about what you have. It's about what I need you to get for me."

"Like I said," Alex grit out, "I'm retired."

He quickly surveyed his surroundings before continuing, "Well, this has been a nice chat, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to get going."

His hands glowed red.

"I thought you might say that, which is why I brought some insurance," the man quickly stated, and from behind him two men pulled a small blonde girl, kicking and biting at the rag tied around her mouth and cutting at her face.

"Lila?" Alex questioned, looking at the girl's ragged appearance and the strange metal object latched around her neck like a collar.

"Like I said, I'll be requiring your assistance with a job. _Both_ of your assistance. And to ensure you comply, we've given Lila the top of the market accessories to prevent her from using her powers to escape," he picked a small remote out of his pocket and pulled the antenna up, "and to serve as an effective reminder for the consequences of choosing not to comply."

He pressed a button and electricity channeled through the inhibitor; causing the girl to writhe in pain.

"Fine," Alex said, holding his arms up neutrally, wincing at the girl's muffled screams, "I'll do what you want."

The man flashed a smile at that, which sent a chill up Alex's spine.

"Splendid," the Russian man responded, motioning for Alex to follow him.

The blonde stood his ground.

"Sergei," he stated firmly, "When this is done - you let her go."

The man darted his eyes over to the girl, now limply kneeling on the ground.

"You prove your use to me," he responded, eyes returning to the male in front of him, "And we'll talk about her future."

Sergei turned and walked into the doorway of the warehouse next to them. The guards followed him, dragging Lila's barely conscious body behind them.

Alex glanced up at the sky, again hoping that _anyone_ would find him, before taking a deep breath and stepping through the door.

The thugs deposited Lila's body in a cell, leaving the door open before grabbing his arm and throwing him in.

"Sergei will be back later," the shorter guard grunted, before they slammed the door shut and disappeared.

Alex dropped to the floor next to Lila, eyes widening. She had always been on the smaller size, but she looked unprecedentedly tiny to him. He reached up to untie the rag that was choking her, gently pulling it off and then throwing it to the other side of the cell.

She coughed a few times, before attempting to sit up a little. Alex immediately helped her up, slowly helping her settle against the concrete wall.

"Hey stranger," she said, mustering up a small smile, "Bit of a predicament we're in here, isn't it?"

"What happened?" he asked immediately.

He coughed again and he felt guilty for pressing for details so immediately, but she continued, "Things in Chicago - they didn't turn out so well. Derek.. he… well, there wasn't work for us anymore. Everyone went their separate ways. Nadya and I came home, we were going to try to start over. We were even waitressing. Then… well Mikhail found us. He said he had a job. A one time thing, he just needed a building to be more… accessible. We needed to pay our rent, so I did it. But then he just kept showing up, and the jobs, they were with people we said we'd never work with. I tried to get out of it. But my skill set was too valuable for Sergei to lose, so when he found out I wanted to quit, he was scared I'd drop off the grid. They brought me here. Somehow they made this," she said, gesturing to the heavy metal around her neck, "to turn my powers off."

"How do they take it off?" Alex asked, looking closer at it. There didn't appear to be any buttons on it.

"There's a key, and they need to disarm it first with a passcode that only Sergei knows. He types it into his remote," she explained, running her fingers over the edges.

"I think they realized my metabolism needs to keep up with my abilities… so they keep me just strong enough so they can use me to steal things but too weak to be able to get away when they take it off," she divulged softly.

"How long have they had you here?" he asked, fury with Sergei and his crew running deep within his blood.

"Six weeks, I think," she responded, "It gets hard keeping track of time."

Noises came from outside the cell, the sound of metal being dropped on concrete.

"Alex," she started urgently, "They think they can keep you compliant with the threat of them hurting me. But if they put one of these collars on you, we're never going to be able to get out of here. If it comes down to that, you need to fight them. I'll be fine."

A storm flashed behind his eyes. "I'm not going to leave you here to die," he whispered strongly.

"What about your new dad? Will he come for you?" she asked, their voices low as people walked by their cell, talking and laughing reverberating through the concrete door.

"My new..? Oh. Erik, he's not my dad," Alex stated, after realizing through his confusion who she was talking about.

Lila rolled her eyes. "Okay, whatever, is the guy who takes care of you, but isn't your dad going to save us? I'm kind of running out of options here if not."

"The X-men will come for us. I'm sure they'll find us, if I don't come home tonight."

 _Back at the mansion…_

"Where is he?" Erik grumbled at the clock turned to 9pm. He paced through the foyer, the metal in the telephone on the sidebar rattling as he circled through the room.

The door opened and the tension in his shoulders decreased minutely.

The redhead stopped short in the doorway, before shaking his head, "Okay Erik… you almost had me panicking that I missed curfew there… until I realized it's only nine o'clock at night."

"Alex was due home around three and he hasn't come back or phoned," Charles explained when it became evident Erik wasn't going to speak from his resumed pacing.

"Oh… that's weird," Sean started, "Alex is usually really good about that stuff. But maybe he met a girl or something."

"That's it," Erik exclaimed, grabbing his coat off the hook, "I'm going to look for him."

"Erik, let's be reasonable," Charles stated. Erik shot him a fierce glare. The Professor continued, "You can't go alone. Let me call Hank to come with us and help us look."

"I'll go too," Sean volunteered, shrugging his leather jacket back on.

"No, stay with Raven," Charles suggested, "In case he comes back, you can contact us."

Eight minutes later, Hank was driving the two headmasters into the city. He glanced to headmaster at his right, who didn't meet his eye, knuckles white from gripping his hat so tightly.

"Are you alright?" he questioned, concern evident in his features, before flicking his vision back to the traffic.

"I just have a feeling," the metal wielder responded, "A feeling that something is very wrong."

Hank stepped on the gas with a bit more pressure at that statement, a grim countenance sweeping over the entire car.

After several hours passed, and Sergei had yet to return, Lila curled into Alex's side and fell asleep. Alex looked down at her, taking in her pale skin and furrowed brow, even as she slept, and anger coursed through his blood. He felt his fingers start to tingle and pushed the emotion down, not wanting to risk an outburst of his powers while Lila still had an electric shock necklace on.

He heard the rustling in the next cell increase, and tried not to think about the rats that were moving around on the other side. He'd heard them moving a few times, but their activity seemed to be picking up with all the movement he heard.

Then he heard the whimpers. At first he thought it was a kitten, but when he realized what was in the cell next to him, his heart stopped.

He gently shook the girl in his arms awake.

She looked up to him, her vision blurry, swiping a hand across her eyes before murmuring, "What is it?"

He glanced in the direction of the whimpering and she heard it as well, instantly realizing, "Alex, it's a child." She stood up quickly, her body swaying with the sudden movement. He stood up immediately, reaching out to steady her, but she was already on her way to the end of the cell, where a small grate was present in the bottom, connecting the two together.

She crouched down and peered through the opening.

"Hi there little one," she started. A tiny, huddled figure in the middle of the adjoining cell stiffened immediately. Slowly, the head turned and Lila was met with dark brown eyes.

"Hi, I'm Lila," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, "Can you tell me your name?"

Scared brown eyes and a tangled heap of brown curls stared back at her.

Finally, she spoke, her voice raspy and hoarse, and her words not understandable to Alex. He glanced at Lila for translation for the girl's Russian words.

"She asked if we were special too," Lila provided quietly before responding to the girl.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind the cell and Lila grabbed Alex's hand and tried to whisper soothing words to the little girl who had started to shiver.

"The bad men," she said in English, looking at them with terror in her eyes, "The bad men are back."

Charles held the Cerebro prototype mask Hank had been working on redesigning as they were rebuilding the technology.

Hank reached back to fix a few of the wires, and shook his head, "I only wish it worked at greater distances like before."

The Professor took a deep breath before sliding it onto his head and closing his eyes. "This will only work if he's been actively using his powers… so the best news for us, Erik, will be if I do not find a trace of him." He attempted to prepare the elder man.

Erik just nodded once, sharply.

Charles closed his eyes and reached out for his mind, searching for their young charge, and gasping when a fleeting image of the violent scene from the alleyway played out. He saw a flash of a warehouse, broken out windows, and a nearby mechanic shop.

He opened his eyes, slowly removing the helmet.

"Erik," he said urgently, "I regret that your sense about this was right. Someone took him. Someone took Alex."

The response he received involved the mangling of several nearby telephone poles.

 _To be continued….._


End file.
